The Bunker
by danerxo
Summary: VERY AU. Lily Evans has been abducted, thrown into a world of lies, deception and hidden agendas. Now trapped in one man's twisted game of revenge, Lily Evans must fight not only to escape with her life but also with her sanity still intact. Rated T for strong language & mature themes.


First off, this is an EXTREMELY AU story. People who existed in the Marauder timeline and the canon may or may not exist at all, furthermore the characters from both time periods will co-exist alongside each other.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

Chapter One

It Begins

_This is what I brought you, this you can keep_

_This is what I brought, you may forget me_

_I promise my heart, just promise to sing_

_Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep_

_Prelude 12/21 - AFI_

* * *

_Somewhere, Sometime_

Hard breathing sounded behind her. Her legs pumped harder up the dark oak staircase; she was running for her life. Beads of sweat have begun to form on her brow blurring her vision, making it difficult to see. She had lost both of her shoes when she attempted her flight from this horrific manor and her bare feet skipped across the wooden floor, causing a harrowing shriek that reverberated through the darkened halls. Echoes, breathing…her pursuer behind her approached. Merciless, its breathing closed down on the back of her neck. A whimper escaped her lips; her arms sung fast, bending at the elbows. She ignored the wisp of brown hair that flung into her vision.

She _had_ to escape.

She_ had_ to get away.

Tears of horror and fear streaked across her cheeks unchecked. Her lips, dry and cracked, were colorless. She could not scream, her voice was lost to her due to unadulterated fear and torture that she had endured while being held incarcerated. With an abrupt loss of strength, she fell to the ground exhausted. On hands and knees she sank to the ground, lowering her head to the wooden floor, waiting for the assailant to claim her life.

It never came.

Panting harshly, she bit her lip coarsely - causing the already split lip to begin bleeding profusely - to stop her from making a sound. Mustering up the very small expanse of courage she had left, she slowly turned her head and looked behind her, giant-terror filled eyes met with nothing but an empty hallway. She sluggishly got up from the floor, adjusting herself to a sitting position scarcely believing her luck; she had lost him!

_She got away._

Breathing harder than she had before, she gradually got to her feet, her muscles balked in protest at the movement but she didn't notice. _She didn't care_. She just needed to get to the front door. She needed to get outside, to get to a safe haven outside this god forsaken place. She looked around cautiously, cautiously moving herself closer to the wall, sliding her body up against it. Making sure not to make noise, she gradually made her way transversely to the grand hall, towards the foremost entrance of the estate. Seeing the door just a few yards away from her, she felt hope swell through her body. She was going to make it_._ Excitement exploded throughout her body; _she was going to live! _She made a beeline for the door, running as fast as her beaten and broken body could support her. Her breathing came harder, faster, sounding erratic to her ears but she did not care, not when she was this close to freedom. Her hand gripped the door handle, tearing it open with all the strength she could muster, ready to run…

Only to find the entrance had been bricked off, shutting her inside the house, permanently. Her jaw went slack with dismay, her eyes widened exponentially. She ran her hand across the bricks, almost willing to believe that her eyes were deceiving her; that it was just a trick. The hope she had felt only moments before disappeared entirely, leaving her to be surrounded by despair, deeper and more all-consuming than she had ever felt previously.

"No…this can't be happening."

Her hand gradually fell to her side, her head lethargically shaking back and forth, her shoulders quivering with the slight movements of her silent sobs. Tears began to distort her vision as she came to the abrupt and rapid recognition that she will never leave this place alive.

She was going to _die_

She was going to die here.

She didn't know how long she stood there, silently sobbing her head hanging limply in her hands, before she heard the unmistakable sound of footfalls approaching nearer, his –_it's_ – distinctive breathing coming closer. She snapped out of her stupor, looking wildly around her for a place to hide. She ran to the nearest entryway, her unsteady hands fumbling with the lock as she heard him coming even closer. She listlessly backed away from the door; her body hard-pressed up alongside the wall, and sank to the floor. Her once beautiful hair hung limply around her, clinging to her face, her sweat mingling with her tears and the dried blood that had accumulated on her lips.

"Some-somebody…help me…"

But her plead would fall on deaf ears and she knew it, she could scarcely hear what she said herself over her labored breathing. She heard the footsteps halt outside the locked door. She heard a muttered oath as the pursuer strained to open the locked door. She saw a flash of colored light seep through the crack between the door and the floor. Her brown eyes were fastened to the doorknob witnessing disbelievingly as it slowly began to turn despite being locked._ 'That's not possible. This can't be happening!'_ Her dismay grew and her eyes widened as more tears began to stream down her pale sunken cheeks unrestrained, as the door flew opened.

The woman screamed in horror.

No one heard it.

* * *

_Evans' Estate – 10:45 am_

Maria Hawthorne hummed softly while she added the finishing touches to the dining room table, centering the china flower vase with extreme care and rearranging the white and red flowers once again to best try and optimize their beauty from every angle. Stepping back from the table to admire her work, she smiled slightly. Taking a step back, she looked around the lavish space. The cherry wood grand table was polished to the point of gleaming, the cream carpet was deep cleaned the previous day and the fresh scent of vanilla and cinnamon fanned through the dining room. Nodding her head with approval, Maria admired her handy work a few moments longer before deciding that the room was satisfactory before and making her way back to the kitchen.

Maria re-tied her white apron so it fit snuggly around her waist before she continued chopping the vegetables for the stew she was making for supper; everything must go perfectly tonight. The mister and misses of the estate, Michael and Donna Evans, would be traveling from London tonight to see their two youngest daughters. From what Maria had heard through the gossip was that they were coming home to officially announce the betrothal of their middle child, Petunia, and Lord Vernon Dursley. She sighed; she knew that Miss Petunia would _not_ like that, not one bit. The Evans' were the textbook examples of social climbers, so much so that it appeared that they gave little thought to what their own children may or may not want in their own lives.

When she had been first employed for the Evans when their eldest daughter, Rose, was born, she became the child's primary caregiver and when Petunia and Lily followed shortly after the trend continued. Maria was the only adult the girls had contact with for months on end; their parents coming home seldomly. She raised them, taught them and cared for them as they were her own children. Only when they could be trusted enough to be expected to behave themselves properly at public functions was when they had any long term interaction with their parents. Rose, Petunia and Lily were dragged tooth and nail to the "must-be-seen" events of the season after their fifteenth birthday. And from what they told Maria afterwards, it was the same boring conversation with the same boring people at every single one of them.

Thinking of her two youngest charges, Maria made her way to the casual dining area to see if they had gotten out of bed and came downstairs without her noticing; she stopped short when she saw the two empty chairs that were around the small light oak table. Sighing, Maria wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the main entrance of the house, and stood at the bottom of the grand staircase.

"Miss Lily! Miss Petunia! Your breakfast is getting cold!"

She waited at the foot of the marble staircase for a moment, it was so like these two to sleep in till God-knows what time; their elder sister Rose never was this much trouble to wake up in the morning, but then again Rose was the ideal child. As the eldest, she always strived to show an example to her younger sisters especially, always making sure that they went to their etiquette lessons and teaching them right from wrong when she could, she would even tutor the girls in their lessons. She was such a beautiful child, thought Maria wistfully, with thick brown hair, warm eyes and a bright smile; she was an absolute delight to raise. Maria truly missed having Miss Rose living here, but once she turned twenty-three, she was married off to her betrothed. Last she heard was that the newlyweds were currently backpacking across the continent blissfully happy in their new lives. Maria wished the best for them.

"I hear you Maria. I hear you," said the young woman, who appeared on the banister moments before wearing a light colored t-shirt and long purple pajama pants, smiling widely at her aging housekeeper, her wavy dark blonde hair twisted into a bun, and her soft brown eyes glittering with amusement. "Is Lily awake yet?"

"No, Miss Petunia she is not. I'm telling you, that sister of yours is going to be the death of me!"

Petunia smiled slightly and shook her head, "She's not going to be the death of you Maria. She's eighteen. There _is_ a difference, however small it may be."

Maria laughed at the younger girls' words, "So it may seem. But if I do remember correctly Miss Petunia Elizabeth; it was _you_ who gave me the most trouble at that age," shaking her finger in the younger woman's' direction. "Why, I lost count of how many times I caught you sneaking back into the house at three in the morning."

"You just haven't caught her yet." Petunia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Besides, my parents are very adamant on us going to _all_ the various events during the season, I was just following their _excellent _example," countered Petunia with a wink.

Maria shook her head, her eyes dancing with amusement, "You're right, she won't be the death of me. Your parents are coming home tonight. They sent over a telegram earlier this morning; they are excited to see you."

At the mention of her parents, Petunia's smile twisted into an ugly scowl, contorting her usual appealing face into a grimace. She was not close to her parents, none of her siblings were. They were always off trying to make a better name for the family and to advance themselves through the circle of the British elite. Petunia always thought that it was rather pathetic. Their parent's had always told them that they were gone for so long, leaving their children with Maria, due to the fact they were trying to better the family's' social status. It did not take Petunia long to realize that when they did come home it was not to check in on the _daughters_ but to check in on their _estate_.

Petunia nodded stiffly, "Well, it's not like they're going to be here long. They _never_ stay longer than a few days."

Maria hung her head, sadness clear evident in her eyes. She had never approved of how the Evans treated their daughters and it broke her heart to see a family as distance as this one was. Her own family was extremely close when she was growing up; she hadn't even known that families even _could_ be this distance. "Why don't you go wake your sister for me dear," she said softly before walking back into the kitchen to continue cooking supper.

Petunia's eyes followed their housekeeper as she walked out of sight. Sighing loudly, Petunia shook her hair out of its bun and rearranged it into a ponytail before walking down the opulent gold trimmed hallway to the double doors of her younger sisters' bedroom, her feet faintly sinking into the cushioning of the carpet. She knocked on the door, softly calling out Lily's name. She frowned slightly when Lily did not answer the door. Knocking on the door again, slight louder this time and still received the same result.

"Lilliana?"

Petunia opened the door and walked onto the white carpet of her sister's spacious bedroom. The queen size bed on the opposite side of the room had its sheets and comforter laid out haphazardly, more on the floor than on the bed. The double French doors leading out to the small private balcony were slightly ajar, allowing the slight breeze outside to come through the room, blowing the cream see through curtains gently off the floor. What looked to be like papers were scattered across the carpeted floor, gently wafting in the breeze.

Her sister's oversized French vanity mirror was tilted downwards, her make-up spewed across its surface and a stack of those same papers along with a black substance that had been spilled all over the fine wood. Petunia hesitantly reached out her hand to touch the black residue. Bringing her fingers to her face, she sniffed the offensive substance.

'_Ink?' _Petunia thought,_ 'What is Lily doing with a bottle of ink on her vanity? This will never come out of the wood!'_

"What are you doing?"

Petunia shrieked at the sudden interruption. Turning around swiftly, she saw her younger sister standing behind her; Lily's long unruly red hair was a mess and her brilliant green eyes dance with glee at catching her normally stoic sister off guard.

"Lilliana Victoria Evans! You scared me half to death!" Petunia cried, as she crossed her arms across her chest and gave her baby sister her best you-are-in-trouble face. "Where were you just now? And why is there _ink_ on your vanity? That's never going to come out you know."

Lily pulled her fingers through her hair, trying to get rid of all the knots. "I was in my closet, looking for something to wear," she said offhandedly.

Petunia raised an eyebrow at Lily omission of why there was ink all over her vanity but she didn't question it, knowing her sister was not going to elaborate. She had become rather secretive in the last year or so and Petunia knew not to push the topic and uncrossed her arms.

"Well, breakfast is ready downstairs. Maria asked me to come up and get you."

Lily nodded absentmindedly and walked over to her ruined vanity, tilting the mirror upwards and pushing the mess on to the right side. She heard Petunia take a sharp intake of breath when she saw the long spider-web like crack in the center on the mirror.

"What did you do?" she asked softly

Ignoring her sister, Lily found a hair brush in her vanity and began the slow process of making her hair more manageable. Seeing that it wasn't working, she scowled in disgust, putting her hair brush down and opening the vanity's top drawer, pulling out a hair tie and quickly putting it into a messy bun.

"So you having any luck convincing our parents that the _lovely_ Vernon Dursley isn't the man for you?" Lily asked, changing the topic, looking at her sister through the ruined mirror. Petunia crossed her arms and huffed. Lily immediately felt bad about bring up such a touchy subject to get out of answering her sisters questions. Her sister was going to be married off and there was nothing they could do to stop it or change their parents' minds. Their older sister had been married off just a few months before, but she had been genuinely in love with the man their parents chose for her. He was the ideal man: compassionate, understanding, and handsome. Vernon Dursley was the exact opposite. He was mean, a womanizer and a total brute.

"I'm not going to marry him! I don't care what our parents say! He's disgusting; he was probably a pig in a past life!"

Lily turned around to face her sister; Petunia's eyes were glazed over with unshed tears. They both knew that once Petunia was married off that they would most likely never see each other again. No matter how hard they fought it, they both knew that within a year's time Petunia would become that man's wife with no way out of it. Lily sighed and wrapped her arms around her sister; Petunia was being forced to walk ten steps behind someone of the rest of her life. She still vividly remembered the scene Petunia had caused when their parents told her that Vernon Dursley had asked to court her.

"If he was a pig in a past life, we can turn him into one then."

Petunia shook her head and laughed slightly, turning to face her younger sister, moving out of her embrace. "Oh Lils, we can't turn him into a pig! That's ludacris!"

Lily didn't say anything back, mulling her decision over in her head on why she chose not to tell her family about her gift. It seemed like an easy choice at the time, relations in her family have never been easy and she didn't want to add the extra strain of telling them that she was indeed more special than they could have ever imagined. That she was gifted – no more than gifted, she was extraordinary.

When she heard Petunia knocking on her door this morning, she panicked. There she was sitting in plain sight working on perfecting her ability, writing herself notes on what she should change when it came to the movements and pronunciation, so what happened to her vanity mirror wouldn't happen again. Quickly as she could she grabbed everything she could hold and ran into her walk-in closet. Placing the items on the floor, she pushed her boxes of designer shoes to the side to reveal a small wooden door, opening the door as quickly as possibly she threw everything inside and shut it with a soft _'click_'. She walked out of the closet just in time to see Petunia looking curiously at the ink she spilled in her haste.

She _couldn't _tell them, not now anyways. Strange things have been happening to people like her. People were disappearing out of thin air, mysterious deaths have been splashed all over the newspapers and the television recently asking for people who knew anything about these cases to come forward; no one ever did. The detectives were so completely baffled as to how these murders and kidnappings occurring, but Lily knew. Oh, Lily knew what was happening indeed: people like her were being _hunted down_, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why but she had to get prepared for what was coming. And god help her if she could save her family from the worst of it by keeping them in complete ignorance.

"No, we can't," said Lily softly nodding her head, "But I do know of something that will get you out of this funk!"

Not waiting for her sister to respond, Lily grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her room, running down the staircase, before bursting through the kitchen door causing it to swing back against the wall with a loud _'bang!'_

"Oh dear! You, Miss Lilliana, damn near gave me a heart attack!" cried Maria, clutching her chest, darkly glaring at her youngest charge before resuming her cooking, "What have I told you about startling me like that? I must have told you a _thousand_ times!"

Lily smiled sheepishly, having the decency to lower her eyes abashed at the tongue-lashing she just received. "Sorry Maria. Me and Petunia –"

"Petunia and I, Miss."

Lily huffed, she really hated it when Maria corrected her like that, she had been doing it for _years_. "Fine. _Petunia and I_ are going to go get our nails done and do some retail therapy. We'll be back by supper, okay?"

Maria nodded slowly, not looking up from her task. "I guess that's okay. As long as you have Mister John driving you two and you're back before your parents arrive."

Lily nodded absentmindedly and grabbed Petunia's hand again, walking out of the kitchen and back upstairs, pushing her sister into her bedroom before she can protest. "Get changed. We're going to have fun today!"

"But Lily, we don't have any money! How are we going to pay for anything?"

Lily eyed her sister for a second before smiling widely, holding out their parent's credit card to her older sister. Petunia's eyes widened.

"H-how did you get that?" shrieked Petunia.

Lily smirked. "It's a little thing I like to call _magic_."

Petunia just continued to stare at her younger sister wide eyed.

* * *

He was pissed; beyond pissed.

He was fucking furious.

Those damn fools have failed him for the last time. He wiped the remaining blood off his calloused hands, before lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. Those pathetic fools brought him the wrong girl! Was his request really that difficult to follow? To get it right? He didn't think so. He orders were simple: get the girl and bring her here, that was all. And they _failed._ They didn't even have the decency to die like real men, he thought with disgust spitting on their remains. They had screamed loudly enough to wake the dead when they realized what his true intentions were for bring them down to the chamber. They had begged for mercy like the wretched worms they were, tears streaming down their faces mingling with the snot that had sprung forth from their noses. They were just like the others, just like the rest of the worthless pieces of scum that walk the Earth. They didn't even have the _power_; they were completely useless to him from the beginning, he thought running his hands through his thick hair.

He threw his cigarette on the ground, pushing himself off of the wall, briskly walking out of the chamber. He knew he should have gone himself to get the girl. With a smirk gracing his face, his emerald eyes flashing with a warped sense of pleasure as he thought back on what fun he inflicted on them before he disappeared with a small _'pop'_.

If you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.


End file.
